Curses, Prayers and Promises
by The Hark-ness monster
Summary: Altair, unable to sleep on the cold bureau floor after his most recent mission, knows the perfect place to get a goodnights sleep...next to Malik.


Curses, Prayers and Promises

Assassin's Creed

An Altair/Malik fanfiction

One night in the Jerusalem Bureau…

"Damn him," I said with a sigh one night in the bureau. _Damn that novice._

It had been several days since I had expected Altair to return from his most recent mission; to kill Talal, the slaver here in the city. It _bothered _me that he was taking so long. But what bothered me even more was the fact that it bothered me. _Why should I care if he returns or not? What business is it of mine weather he lives or dies? _And yet I found myself awake at night worrying about him…I cursed him again.

Finally, it grew late enough that I simply refused to stay awake any longer. A glance at the door, a quick and silent prayer. I blew out the candle and headed off to bed.

It was well past midnight, I realized, when I stumbled through the bureau's roof entrance. My knees and hands were shaking as I collapsed on the hard stone floor, panting. To some dismay, I noticed that the old rugs on the floor did not do their job very well. They didn't make the floor any softer or warmer.

That was the closest I had ever come to failing a mission, and losing my life, in a long time. Al Mualim should have known what demoting me would do. I had come to rely on my expert skills, and weapons so that when I was stripped of them, I simply could not defend myself. Maybe he did know that…I sighed into one of the pillows. _Of course he did, that's the point you idiot._

I looked over through the door into the main room of the bureau. It was dark and silent. _Damn it._ _Of course Malik went to bed._ _You should too. It's late, _I thought to myself. My eyes were almost closed…_but I need to see him. _Once more that thought came to me as if it were haunting me from memories of being locked up in Talal's prison. Whenever I had thought it might not be worth the fight, my thoughts immediately jumped to Malik and how I needed to see him again…because I had made him a promise. When we were just boys back in Masyaf, before Kadar had died, I promised that were I to die, I would do it by his side. It was childish, I know, and maybe he hated me now, and maybe that promise meant nothing to him but it meant something to me and I was not about to break that promise.

I stood up with renewed strength. _You need to sleep_, I told myself. _I will…but I need to see him, _and I had had too many nights sleeping on a cold, stone bed when I was being held by Talal. I knew I would not fall asleep on the bureau floor, so I searched for new accommodations.

I realized he had returned when I heard him climbing up the ladder. His boots hit the scaffolding with a loud thud and his entire arsenal shook. _For an assassin he really isn't very quiet, _I thought. But maybe he wasn't trying to be quiet. Maybe he wanted to make such noise knowing that if nothing happened then I was asleep and it was safe to enter. Well I was awake and I did nothing. He pushed aside the assassin's order banner that hung in the doorway and entered.

I stood at the doorway, banner pushed aside, for a moment or two. Moonlight trickled in through a tiny window on the right wall and outlined everything in silver.

I saw him lying peacefully in the bed, turned towards the wall. He was asleep. He had to be…

I unclipped my armor, belts and blades placing them all in the corner, quietly followed by my boots.

I stepped across the floor and approached the bed. I did not hesitate to lay down beside him.

For a minute I thought I was dreaming. I dreamt we were back in Masyaf when we were young, before any of this had happened and when the two of us together in the same bed was not an uncommon occurrence…but then I tried to move my left arm and nothing happened. That's when reality returned to me and I realized that Altair was actually lying beside me, something I thought might never happen again. But I was wrong.

I did not move or protest. I tried to conceal the fact that I was even awake.

I felt him shift closer against my back and an unexpected arm draped itself over my side. I opened my mouth to speak but all that came out was a quiet gasp as every muscle in my body tensed.

_Damn him. Damn him…_I repeated in my mind as I bit my lip, feeling warm as heat burned beneath my skin. But I began to relax and my mouth fell shut as I realized just how good his chest felt against my back.

As much as I wanted to push him away and yell and scream at him to never touch me again, I didn't. I couldn't. I knew that the logic in my mind told me to hate him but deep down, I missed everything we had once had…and I didn't really want him to leave.

I settled back against him and his arm tightened around me. I stayed where I was, in his arms, just like in my memories, and did not move.

I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned into his warmth. My forehead rested on the back of his neck and I nudged him gently with my nose.

"God I miss you," I whispered to the dark, but I know he hadn't heard me. _Thank god he's a heavy sleeper._

I sighed and sank deeper into the soft bed.

Nostalgia hit me like a rock in the pit of my stomach when I realized that this moment, this shelter from the relentless storm that was his hatred of me, was hardly real. We were not sharing this moment. He was fast asleep. It was nothing compared to the relationship we used to have, the moments we used to share, but the damage I had done to our relationship was beyond repair, beyond recognition, and I had to take what I could get.

Inhaling deeply, remembering his scent, my skin brushed against his with a soft sensation and my cheeks burned as I remembered the feel of his skin on mine. I inhaled again. _Everything here smells like him_...I missed everything about him, but he would never know. And with sweet memories parading around my head, exhaustion quickly took over and I promptly fell asleep.

…I stayed awake for a long time that night…

I was jolted out of my shallow sleep when the one beside me stirred and rolled out of bed. I peeked one eye open as he strolled lazily across the room. I nearly shuttered at the sight of his back. _I can't believe I had to sleep next to that, _I said in my mind as if he were some kind of repulsive beast. But I had to lie to myself in order to suppress what I truly thought of him. _You should consider yourself lucky. You got to sleep next to that…_

I carefully watched each muscle work beneath his skin as he pulled on his boots. _Couldn't he have put his robe on first?_ I thought as I stared through slitted eyes. _Why does he insist on torturing me?_

Finally he slipped on his tunic and clipped on his belt and gear, but that did not stop me from watching his hands as they moved with grace and precision. _Damn those hands_, I thought to myself.

Lastly, he fixed his sleep tousled hair and flipped up his hood. In the past, when we had woken up together, I thought his unkempt hair was just precious, but now of course I cursed it, since I did, without a doubt, hate everything about him.

I closed my eyes and feigned sleep just as he turned to look at me. I hoped to Allah that he had not realized that I had been watching him.

He stepped up to my bed and leaned in close. I felt a hand brush my chest. _That's it, I can't do this anymore._

I gently took his hand in mine and opened my eyes.

He looked surprised. Well he probably was…surprised that I was looking at him with soft, tired eyes and not a death glare. I was rather surprised myself.

My eyes met his. They were liquid gold, like honey and just as sweet.

"Go back to sleep," he said softly as he leaned in close. His hand ran through my hair as I held his other one to my chest. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No." I wasn't really sure what I was saying no to. Clearly I was too tired to actually think. "Is he dead?" I asked, remembering why I had been so worried about him in the first place.

He blinked twice as his thoughts adjusted to the sudden subject change. It took him a moment to return to reality I think. Slowly he pulled out a feather stained with red. "Jerusalem no longer needs to fear the slaver."

"Good," I replied. "You should go."

He took my flat and bitter tone exactly the way I hoped he would. I did not want him here. He stood up straight and his hood cast a shadow so I could not see his eyes, but I could still see his flat, scarred lips and I watched them as they formed the words "I know." I heard the sting in his voice.

He turned on his heels and walked to the banner-covered door but paused before he left. By the way his lip twitched I guessed he wanted to say something but I didn't let him.

"Be safe." I said, cursing the tiny drop of emotion that managed to slip in-between those two syllables.

"I will," he replied quickly. Then he was gone. The banner fell back into place and I was once again alone.

Then I had the strange impulse to run after him and kiss him as hard as I could, like we used to, but then I remembered that I hated him. I did hate him, didn't I? …Yes. Yes I did.


End file.
